


The Sketchy Dimension of Dibbal the Jinn

by IamLapinBlanc



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fantasy, Gay Male Character, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-13 22:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21005081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IamLapinBlanc/pseuds/IamLapinBlanc
Summary: Jack has a bit of a problem. You see, he decided to kill himself and ended up in another plane of existence after accidentally performing a blood sacrifice to a jinn in his bathtub.  Now he just needs to save the world, escape a cult, and deal with an increasing frustrating companion who just so happens to be extremely handsome.





	1. Bathtub Blood Portal

He didn't know it would hurt this much.

Crimson droplets ooze up from the three deep slits in his skin as he brings the blade down for a fourth, wincing.

Come on, Jack. You can do this. Just get through it.

Again and again, the sharp metal cuts through his pale skin until there are eight gashes in total, four on each wrist. He places the knife on the sink and picks up his phone, re-reading the mass text, addressed to everyone in his contact list, one more time.

_Everyone, _ _I am going to kill myself. By the time you read this, I will be dead. Thank you for everything you've done for me. Goodbye._

He knew it was awful to leave no explanation. It would cause so much pain. He pressed send anyway.

A minute later, he already had twenty missed calls and fourteen frantic texts from his parents and friends. A message from his boyfriend, Sean, was the only one he read.

_Good job babe. I'm assuming you already cut yourself, so now its time to get in the tub. Don’t forget to delete these messages._

He had been trying to forget about the sound of the rushing water behind him, but now it was inevitable. He turned to the water, made cloudy by the white color of the tub walls.

With trembling fingers he wrote back.

_Okay. Bye, Sean._

He climbed into the tub after deleting the messages. Water sloshed over the side as he laid down as best he could, submerging his entire body underwater. The ringing of his phone was drowned out by static as he watched diluted red mingle with his black hair.  
As he lay in his plastic grave, already feeling a bit light-headed, he closed his eyes and mouthed the words Sean had often repeated to him

“Sine me nihil es.” Without me, you are nothing.

And that’s when he felt himself falling into the gaping portal that had opened up beneath him.


	2. What the fuc-

He fell for a long time, cold air whipping at his sopping clothes. It was dark and soundless except for the whooshing of wind past his ears. Every once in a while he fell past what looked like closed doors, each one different from the last. He started counting them after the first couple, counting ten in all before they stopped coming.

Eventually, he figured out how to move his limbs into a more comfortable free-falling position, laying eagle-spread in the air.

He had begun seeing pinpricks of light below him, steadily revealing themselves to be coming from the first open door he had seen, imbedded in a small concrete platform. Soft brightness spilled from beyond the door frame, but he couldn't see beyond it.

He landed with a thump on the concrete, grunting at the impact. He lay there for a moment, getting used to the feeling of solid ground, before pushing himself to his feet and turning to the door.

The room beyond seemed to be something from an old movie. Oak bookshelves lined the walls, books lined up neatly and from the titles he could make out, alphabetically. A wood fire crackled in the stone fireplace, lighting up leather armchairs and the plush rug they sat on.

Having nowhere else to go, he entered the room.

“Ah, you've arrived!” A voice booms, reverberating from every corner of the room. "Finally! I've been waiting for hours!"

He jumps, startled. He looks around but doesn't see anyone in the room besides himself.

“Over here, boy!” The voice says again, this time from behind him.

He whirls around. There’s a man standing there, grinning. Except he’s not a man. Three spiraling horns curl over his bald scalp, the skin of which is the sickly green of a dumpster. Blindingly white teeth flash at him from thin lips and he can see his ribs beneath the cheap suit that hangs loosely on his shoulders.

Needless to say, Jack fainted.


End file.
